


what i have lost

by kunigami



Category: Blue Lock (Manga)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, M/M, mainly fluff though, the gays go stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:34:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25753687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kunigami/pseuds/kunigami
Summary: bachira & isagi and their life after blue lock
Relationships: Bachira Meguru/Isagi Yoichi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	what i have lost

**Author's Note:**

> hihihi this is my first story so i don’t really know what i’m doing but i hope you enjoy!! this is the first chapter! there’ll probably be one more after this :-)
> 
> sorry if there are any grammatical errors i literally suck at grammar but whatever.

Isagi always thought Bachira was pretty.

Unfairly so.

He studied the way he came alive while playing football, as if there was nothing in the whole world that could possibly more fun. He studied the way he’d walk along the side walk, steps bouncy and loud, echoing gently across the empty street. He studied the odd yellow under layers of his hair, a shade Isagi had grown to adore.

But suddenly, studying him as he lays on his back in the wet grass, gazing intently at the stars, the faint light illuminating the slightest features (the gentle slope of his nose, the wide iris in his eyes, the bangs splayed carelessly across his forehead), Isagi realizes Bachira has never looked better.

___________________________________________

In all honesty, Isagi had expected to lose touch with Bachira after Blue Lock ended, even if both of them did end up getting eliminated, with Rin coming out on top. 

Of the two, Bachira was the first to go, quietly making his way out of the Blue Lock facility, a subtle yet forced smile atop his face. 

Although, no matter how much he tried to hide it, Isagi knew.

He knew that internally Bachira was burning, his monster fuming like it never had before, at the loss of everything he had ever hoped for. He could tell by the way his smile was just a little too tight, the way his fists were just a little too clenched, the way his steps were just a little too lethargic. Everything about his posture screamed everything but what he knew Bachira to be. Nothing about Bachira was ever subtle, yet here he was, seemingly tame.

It was terrifying.

“Isagi.”

Blue eyes met yellow. 

“Thank you.” A pause. “For everything, I mean.”

And, all too fast, he was gone. Isagi didn’t even get the chance to respond. To ask why Bachira could possibly be thanking him. If anything, it should be the other way around.

Bachira was the one to wake Isagi’s monster, after all.

It wasn’t till later did Isagi see the piece of paper on his cot containing a messily scribbled phone number.

A week later, Isagi was next to go.

He expected to feel angry, sad, disappointed.

Instead he felt relieved that the enormous pressure of Blue Lock was seemingly erased.

Since coming to Blue Lock, the expectations to devour, evolve, and succeed were always looming figures in the back of his mind. And with Bachira’s absence, the entire atmosphere between the strikers had begun to feel heavy, a weight unable to be shook.

It was suffocating.

Isagi knew he couldn’t handle it for much longer. He was eager to let go of the ledge he had been hanging off of by his teeth for what seemed like months on end.

He thought it would be hard. 

To let go, that is. To forget about the one thing he had spent his entire life aiming for, the thing that had always been so out of reach but had suddenly felt a lot closer when Blue Lock arrived in the picture.

To his dismay or relief, he couldn’t tell which, letting go was easy. It was like saying ‘see you later’ to an old friend, only that ‘later’ would never come.

It’s bittersweet, he eventually decided.

___________________________________________

He probably should’ve called his parents. 

Instead, the first thing he did after he stepped foot outside of the facility was fish his unused phone out of his pocket along with the now crinkled piece of paper. The writing was smudged, nearly unreadable, from the habit Isagi had developed of running his thumb over the scribbled digits. Somehow, he found it comforting, knowing that the tiny slip of paper was left by Bachira for him.

It took all his willpower to dial the number cautiously, careful to not mess it up.

And then all too quickly, yet all too slow, Bachira answered on the second ring.

“Hello?” Even though it was muffled and incomparable to what it sounded like in person (a side effect of the terrible cell signal), Isagi had to suppress a sob at the voice rushing unevenly though the speaker.

“Bachira.” He sighed shakily, his voice unable to contain his relief.

There was a pause, as if Bachira couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and perhaps, he couldn’t.

“Isagi,” He went to say something else but was interrupted suddenly by the sound of his own laughter, “I can’t believe it’s actually you.”

Isagi didn’t realize how much he missed the sound of Bachira’s laughter until that very moment, despite being deprived of it for only a week. But God, he missed it so much it nearly hurt. 

“Did you not expect me to call?” 

“I don’t know,” Bachira answered honestly. A quick, unbelieving gasp quickly following, along with a moment of hesitation. “You...you got eliminated.”

It wasn’t a question, so Isagi didn’t answer.

“You got eliminated.” Bachira repeated, sounding more stern, lacking the unsureness that plagued the previous response.

“Yeah,” Isagi responded, suddenly breathless, despite the fact that he had been sitting utterly unmoving on the steps of the Blue Lock facility for the past fifteen minutes.

“Holy shit, really?”

Isagi couldn’t contain his laughter at the shock in Bachira’s tone and quickly nodded his head before realizing that Bachira couldn’t actually see him.

“Are you really that surprised?”

“I don’t know,” Bachira said again. His uncertainty was somewhat surprising to Isagi, as he always seemed like the type of person who exactly what they wanted. Somewhat worriedly, Isagi realized that perhaps the loss at Blue Lock was taking a bigger toll on him than Isagi originally had thought. Or perhaps he simply didn’t know Bachira as well as he assumed he did.

Each thought made Isagi equally uneasy, but his unease was quickly trampled by the upbeat tone of Bachira’s voice flowing through the phone’s speaker as he gave an in depth recount of everything, literally everything, that had happened to him over the course of the past week.

Isagi would by lying if he said he minded, however.

___________________________________________

That phone call marked both a start and an end. 

To Isagi, losing Blue Lock, however disappointing it may have seemed, was worth it in the end.

If anything, it gave him an excuse to become closer to Bachira.

It was two weeks after their initial phone call when they decided to meet up (two weeks too many, in Isagi’s opinion).

Being together again wasn’t as awkward as he assumed it would be, in fact it was almost as like they were never apart in the first place.

They fell easily back into their routine of playful banter, each quick jab encouraging the other to come back with a sharper retort.

It wasn’t till Isagi got home, still giddy from their encounter, might he add, did he realize that football was not mentioned once. Whether Bachira noticed or not, Isagi didn’t know, but their many meetups following continued the same pattern.

It was rather refreshing to know that their friendship (were they friends? Isagi had trouble telling) wasn’t bound together merely through their one common interest and experience, in fact, they had more things in common than Isagi could have ever imagined.

For one, they both liked to bake. Although while Isagi was terrible at it, embarrassingly so, as he had stubbornly admitted, Bachira could make a mean banana bread. 

When their mutual love of baking (talent or not) was brought up sometime in between bites of the ice cream they were sharing at a small shop nearly exactly halfway between their two houses, Bachira’s face lit up, his starry eyes widening, suddenly ten times brighter than they already were.

He stood up suddenly from his chair, nearly sending it toppling over in the process, and took Isagi by the hand, pulling him upwards and out of the shop, ice cream half eaten and left forgotten on their table. He brought Isagi to his house, smile permanently etched on his face as he held up matching pink aprons for them.

That’s how the evening went; dancing around Bachira’s kitchen to Twice as a banana bread sat in the oven, flour smudged carelessly across their faces from when they had thrown it at each other, laughs dangling lightly in the air between them.

Isagi let himself to admire Bachira then, albeit it not being the first time he’s let himself do that. 

He watched the way his hair bounced animatedly as he melodically flounced around the kitchen. He watched the way his nose scrunched when he accidentally inhaled some of the flour that was resting on his face. He watched the way his eyes crinkled, face wide with unfiltered joy, when Isagi nearly face planted on his kitchen floor.

He wanted to savor every moment with Bachira, somehow keep every little detail engrained in his mind. It was as if every moment with him was simply too precious to lose.

That was when Isagi realized that he could lose Blue Lock, he could lose everything he had hoped his future would be, but he couldn’t lose Bachira.

He simply couldn’t.

He couldn’t explain it, not exactly, at least. But the way his chest felt constricted when he wasn’t with him had to mean something, right?

Isagi wondered if Bachira felt the same way. Either way, he supposed it didn’t matter, because Isagi swore he’d hold onto Bachira long as possible before he inevitably had to let go.

___________________________________________


End file.
